something to believe in
by The Crownless Queen
Summary: "This is a terrible idea." :: In which Hestia Carrow falls in love with Ginny Weasley.


Written for the Quidditch League, Round 11, Puddlemere United, BEATER 2: A character defects from the dark side to join the light, "I don't go looking for trouble, but I do enjoy befriending it.", (emotion) anger.

Hogwarts' Writing Club: Assorted Appreciation - 9: Sarah Jane Smith - Dialogue: "Some things are worth getting your heart broken for.", Disney Challenge - S2: 2. Two Worlds - Write a pairing with two characters from different walks of life, Trope of the Month - 1: Trope: Secret Relationship, All Sorts of Space - 14: Atlas - Basically Home Base: (setting) Hogwarts,

Showtime - 5: Epic I - (genre) Romance, Sophie's Shelf - C10: 10. Connie - Write about a major event in a female character's life, Liza's Loves - 4: Criminal Variant: Spy - Write about a secret, Scamander's Case - 28: (quote) "Not everything that is faced can be changed. But nothing can be changed until it is faced." - James Baldwin, Film Festival - 17: (word) victim, Marvel Appreciation - 4: Write about someone who wants to do the right thing, Lyric Alley - 3: A look from you and I would fall from grace.

Wacky Wandmaker: Wood Type - Pear - (era) Trio, Core Type: Phoenix feather - ((theme) redemption.

_Word count: _2970

**something to believe in**

**.i.**

Hestia doesn't mean to start spying on the youngest Weasley as she sips on her frankly too sugary drink, but to be entirely honest, Slughorn's Christmas party is rather boring.

There's only so much networking she can do after all, especially since the Carrow name still bears quite the stigma from her aunt and uncle's actions — and Weasley is much more interesting to look at anyway.

She's so engrossed in staring at the way Weasley's green dress brings out both her skin tone and her hair that she doesn't even notice Flora's joined her until her sister clears her throat pointedly.

"This is a terrible idea," Flora tells her, the arch of her brow unimpressed as she follows Hestia's line of sight.

Hestia snorts at her sister, taking another pointed sip to ignore her. "I don't know what you're talking about," she replies.

Ginny does something then — she smiles, and laughs at something her (undoubtedly stupid) date says), and Hestia can only smile into her glass, her heart lurching in her chest.

"Sure you don't," Flora drawls, shaking her head with a sigh. "Come on, Hestia, she's trouble and you know it — she's a Gryffindor, and basically Potter's girlfriend at that."

"I don't go looking for trouble." Hestia shrugs with a smirk. "But I do enjoy befriending it."

"Right. _Befriending._ Is that what we're going with now?"

Hestia scowls back and looks away. As she does so, though, her eyes find Weasley again, with her gloriously shining red hair and her mischievous grin. She smiles, and Flora snorts.

"What?" Hestia bites at her sister, her drink sloshing dangerously close to the rim as she turns.

Flora just shrugs back, a smirk playing on her lips. "Nothing," she says, but she's grinning now. "Just… have fun '_befriending'_ her."

"I will, thank you," Hestia retorts smugly. "I will."

**.ii.**

Hestia waits two weeks before she drops books next to Weasley in the Library.

Of course, this isn't the first time she's seen the other girl since the party, but it's the first time she's decided to make a move. Weasley isn't on her own much, and Hestia draws the line at exposing herself to a gaggle of Gryffindors. One is more than enough for her, really.

"This seat free?" Hestia smirks at the suspicious look she gets in return, but she sits without waiting for an answer, right across the table from Weasley. It gives her an undisputed view into Weasley's eyes, and Hestia's stomach quivers.

"Sure, go right on ahead, I guess," Weasley mutters after a beat, pulling some of her work closer to her and glaring at Hestia.

She probably wasn't meant to her that, but Hestia lets her grin sharpen anyway, something warm dancing in her veins at the Gryffindor's heated glare.

"Thank you for the permission," she says out loud, and then, because playing with people is too much fun to resist, she just unrolls her scrolls and gets started on her Charms homework.

To her credit, Weasley lasts almost twenty minutes before she slams her book shut and growls, her eyes narrowed.

"Alright! What is it? Why are you here?"

Hestia looks up from her parchment — she sadly hasn't written as much as she usually would, but the delicious feel of Weasley's eyes on her had more than made up for it.

"Doing my homework, Weasley." She shrugs, tapping the end of her quill on her parchment. "As far as I know, that's still allowed, isn't it?"

Weasley flushes red, her fingers twitch toward wand, lying there on the table.

Hestia looks at it pointedly before looking back at the other girl, arching an eyebrow. The red flush deepens.

Hestia waits for a second, then two, letting the tension build before she sighs and leans back into her seat, cracking her back.

"You looked lonely. I thought you might like some… company."

Weasley's eyebrows arch in confusion. Her lips part just a little. "I… What?"

Hestia taps her quill again. This time, her smile is more genuine. "Don't worry about it," she replies with a dismissive wave of her hand.

And then, because part of being a Slytherin is knowing when to take advantage of every opportunity, she adds, "Say, I hear you're the best in our year at Charms — did you get the same essay on the properties of the color-changing enchantment on already enchanted objects?"

Weasley blinks, visibly taken aback. "Yes? But what does this have to do with anything?"

"Nothing, really." Hestia shrugs again, but this time more deliberately. "But I was wondering if you'd gotten what Flitwick meant when he mentioned the difference between trying the spell on cursed objects and enchanted objects?" She nods at her parchment. "I know I'm meant to mention it in this essay but I can't quite make sense of it."

It's a lie, really — oh, not that Weasley's the best at Charms, that's true enough. But the part where Hestia didn't get the assignment definitely is — she may not be first in the class, but she's no slouch either.

It works though. Weasley's clearly still suspicious and very guarded, but she does pull Hestia's essay closer to herself to take a look at it, humming to herself as she reads.

"You've actually got a good start there," she says after a long pause.

"No need to sound so surprised," Hestia teases, mostly just to see if Weasley's cheeks will bloom red again.

(They do.)

"Thanks," Hestia nods back, taking the chance to innocently slide closer, right up until Weasley's dark red hair almost tickles her neck, and she licks her lips as Weasley starts speaking.

This close, Weasley smells like flowers and dry leather, and it makes Hestia's stomach warm and fluttery.

Keeping track of Weasley's words like this is hard, but Hestia's always been up for a challenge.

**.iii.**

"You know our parents wouldn't approve, right?" Flora tells her one night.

They're sitting on Flora's bed, a floating silver light shining above them to counterbalance the darkness from the drawn curtains — the best way to get some privacy in their dorm room.

Hestia shrugs and looks away, feigning nonchalance — in truth though, her stomach roils and her chest hurts.

She smiles to hide it.

"There's nothing to disapprove of. It's just a bit of fun, really," she says, but there's no fooling Flora — there never has been. Her twin knows her too well for that.

Just like Flora knows her well enough to know there's no changing her mind.

Still, she grips Hestia's hands tightly in hers, smudging their still wet nail polish into streaks of dark purple. "I just don't want you to get your heart broken over this."

"Some things are worth getting your heart broken for." Hestia snorts and takes her hands back. "Besides, trust me, there's no chance of that happening. Weasley just barely agrees to give me the time of day." Hestia's not pouting — really.

"Still?"This time, Hestia does pout at Flora's incredulous tone, even if it is flattering.

"Still. She probably thinks I'm spying on her for the Dark Lord and trying to turn her for my own dark purposes." The thought hurts and it doesn't. It's strange, really. Hestia kind of likes being thought of so highly — as though she has any kind of say in what the Dark Lord does — but she also hates how closed off Weasley still is, months after they've started their… friendship.

She hates it because sometimes she thinks Weasley's eyes linger on her when Hestia's not looking.

She hates it because sometimes Weasley will smile or laugh at something Hestia says or does and Hestia's heart will soar in her chest and she'll think 'now, now — this is it'.

She's been wrong every time, of course, and the closed-off veil that falls back on Weasley's perfect brown eyes hurts a little more each time.

"She'll come around," Flora offers, smiling. She frowns down at her nails and heaves a frustrated sigh, before grabbing her wand and vanishing the messed up polish.

"That's kind of you to say." Hestia smiles wryly, extending her hands for Flora to vanish the polish there too. "I know you hate this."

"But I love you," her twin counters. "So I'll support you even when your ideas are terrible and bound to get you killed."

Hestia snorts, her lips twitching up into a smile despite herself. "Eager to be a single child, Flora?"

Her sister smirks. "You know I do hate sharing."

It's a familiar bout of teasing, and Hestia lets herself fall into it easily, content to ignore how real it could be this time.

After all, Weasley may be a pureblood, but she's still a blood traitor, loyal to Dumbledore and Potter — she'll never turn away from them, and even if she did, Hestia's family wouldn't accept her for it.

Hestia would, of course, but then again, Hestia doesn't think there's anything she wouldn't do for that fiery Gryffindor who caught her in her claws.

**.iv.**

"You know," Weasley tells her one day, only a few weeks before their OWLs are set to take place, "you're clearly good enough at this." She waves at their Charms homework. "You don't need me, so why are you still here?"

Hestia's blood freezes in her veins. "I—" she starts but trails off, mind grappling for a lie that won't come.

She had so many of them prepared too — for her family, for her housemates — but strangely enough none for Weasley herself.

This oversight is unlike her and Hestia curses herself for it, and for the way her tongue suddenly sticks in her too-dry mouth.

"Why wouldn't I be here?" she finally says, hoping her tone sounds nonchalant enough that Weasley will just roll her eyes like she usually does and let it go.

"Oh, I don't know," Weasley replies dryly instead. "Maybe because your family would probably happily murder me, my entire family and most of my friends?"

"... most?" It's probably — definitely — the wrong thing to take note of there, but Hestia can't help it any more than she can help the happy hopeful twist her heart makes.

This time Weasley does roll her eyes. "You know that wasn't the point here."

Hestia swallows and nods. Her eyes burn — she's never liked thinking about this in-depth. "I do, yes."

"Well, then?"

Hestia looks away, only just then realizing she had been staring at the way the light caught into Weasley's red hair for too long again. "I'm not my family," she finally says, and even that much hurts.

It's more than she's ever voiced to anyone, even Flora — although her twin probably knows anyway. The words make her feel sick, but they're also oddly freeing, and Hestia breathes a little easier for them.

She looks back at Weasley, lets her eyes catch on determined brown depths. This time, when she repeats it, her voice doesn't shake. "I'm not my family."

Weasley holds her gaze for a long time, seconds stretching into minutes, before she finally nods.

"Okay," she says.

When she looks away, it leaves Hestia feeling oddly bereft. She licks her lips.

"Okay," Hestia repeats before she shakes her head. She pulls her parchment closer to her. "Anyway, Weasley, I —"

"Ginny."

Hestia freezes. "What?"

Weasley's eyes are hard and determined, and somehow still the most gorgeous thing Hestia's ever seen. "You should call me Ginny. It's my name."

Something breaks open in Hestia's chest. She can't help the grin that blooms on her face. "You should call me Hestia, then."

"Hestia," Ginny repeats slowly, and Hestia has to swallow again.

Her name sounds different in Ginny's mouth somehow.

Hestia likes it.

**.v.**

"_Again."_

Hestia's fingers tighten around her wand and she has to force herself to keep breathing.

_It's only a mouse,_ she tells herself, raising her wand.

"Crucio." The word burns her tongue, and the mouse squeals loudly as it contorts on the table.

"Better," her aunt Alecto says, and then, "Again."

Hestia hates her, hates her, hates her.

She doesn't look at Flora, going through the same lesson with their uncle, but she doesn't have to.

They'll talk about it tonight — they've talked about these 'lessons' every night since the summer began and they found that Amycus and Alecto Carrow were staying in their home too.

It's the first time Hestia's ever wished for the summer to end faster — not that it'll help, she knows.

After all, her aunt and uncle will be teaching at Hogwarts this year.

"Again, Hestia." Her aunt's syrupy voice snaps her out of her voice, and Hestia plasters on a smile even though she feels sick for it.

"Crucio." She casts the Unforgivable again, trying not to imagine her aunt on the other end of her wand rather than the mice she's been practicing on all week.

It doesn't quite work — but her spell is the most effective it's been all day, and Alecto finally lets her go for the day.

She retreats to her room under the pretense of homework, but instead, she just stares at the pages of parchment on her desk.

It would be so easy, she thinks.

She could just… pick up a quill and write to Ginny and tell her everything. Ginny wouldn't judge her — she might even like her better if Hestia could be brave like this, brave enough to do what her heart tells her is the right thing to do.

But what could she even say? What would one letter change, when the Dark Lord holds both the Ministry _and_ Hogwarts?

What escape is there even to be had? All Hestia would do is put Ginny in more danger, and for what? to feel a little safer?

No.

No, it's not worth it.

So instead of indulging her white knight fantasies, she rewrites her Transfiguration essay again, and very pointedly doesn't think about Charms and a girl with hair like fire.

**.vi.**

There are no semi-clandestine Library not-dates this year. Hogwarts is too different for them.

There is, however, another type of not-dates. Flora worries about her, Hestia knows, but her sister still covers for her without Hestia even having to ask.

One of the perks of having a twin is that it takes very little for Flora to pretend both she and Hestia were inside their dorms all night long, with absolutely no wandering or helping the 'resistance' free the first years their aunt and uncle are keeping as 'object lessons'.

(Ginny had been there the first time they'd pulled out a trembling Hufflepuff girl — she'd even held Hestia's hair when she'd puked everything her stomach had held once the girl had been shown to somewhere safer.)

"Do you think this war will end soon?" she dares to ask Ginny one evening.

She's not even sure why she's asking — perhaps she just wants Ginny to reassure her, to tell her, "Of course it'll end — of course we'll win".

Merlin, Hestia's not even sure when she became part of that 'we' — but she does know that she can't regret it.

"I think… I think we're doing our best to make sure it does," Ginny finally replies in a whisper. She sounds tired — they all are — and doubt colors her voice for an instant.

It doesn't suit her. Hestia's throat tightens — doubt doesn't suit Ginny at all.

So Hestia puts on a smile and bumps their shoulders together. "Hey, it'll be fine. I'm sure of it."

Something flashes in Ginny's eyes, too quick for Hestia to catch. "How do you know?"

The question stymies her for a moment, but in the end, Hestia barely needs to think about it before the words simply… fall from her lips.

"I trust you," she replies, her heart too big for her chest. "And I know you're too stubborn to give up before we actually win this war, so…"

That manages to startle out a rare laugh from Ginny, and Hestia's smile widens.

"Thanks," Ginny finally says. "That means a lot, especially…" She trails off.

"Coming from me?" Hestia finishes, a wry twist to her lips. She's barely offended — she's seen what her aunt and uncle have been doing to the school. She's seen their victims. She wouldn't trust herself either.

But Ginny shakes her head vehemently. "No — not… I mean, yes, but no. That's not..." She heaves a frustrated sigh, blowing a strand of hair away from her face. Her eyes soften as she turns to stare at Hestia. "I meant that I trust you. So it means a lot that you trust me too."

Hestia's breath catches in her chest. She nods.

For a moment, they stand there silently, staring into each other's eyes.

Ginny is the first one to break away, clearing her throat. "We should keep moving," she says, nodding toward the other end of the corridor. "We've got a lot of ground to cover still."

Hestia nods. "Right, yes."

It's true — every time they manage to break somebody out of the 'cells' they've been put in, Alecto and Amycus just start using another room. It's frustrating work, but it needs doing — and this way, maybe, Hestia can atone for just one tiny amount of the damage her family is causing.

Ginny nods again. She starts walking, and Hestia follows, quickly falling into step beside her.

Their hands graze once, then twice — and before Hestia can move away, Ginny hooks their pinkies together.

Hestia's heart skips a beat. Her mouth runs dry.

Ginny doesn't say anything about it, but she holds on for the rest of the night.

And quietly, fervently, Hestia holds on right back.


End file.
